In the Line of Duty
by silverarm
Summary: What do the rumors of the Stampede mean? What really happened in Inepril? Or July? A young engineer searches for the answers, for the sake of the woman he loves. A continuing story comprised of drabble (100-word) chapters. UPDATED: Ch. 15-17
1. Elizabeth

In the Line of Duty, a drabble by Silverarm  
  
She'd been back for less than a week, and already they noticed a change. She had locked herself away and neglected the responsibilities she had dutifully performed prior to her assignment. She had begun to daydream, and her smile was weak.  
  
They said she'd met Vash the Stampede, and now there was a horrible silence that pervaded every facet of the woman. He'd injured her in ways that didn't mark the body.  
  
And when they passed her, some thought about asking what she'd seen. And some vowed revenge, if they ever met that red-coated Devil, for her sake. For Elizabeth.  
  
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A brief disclaimer. Trigun and all of its characters are owned by Yasuhiro Nightow, and I apologize profusely to him. 


	2. Truth be known

2.  
  
It's hard working alongside her these days. The silence dominates, interrupted intermittently by the tapping of control panel keys or the background noises of the plant systems switching from one stage to the next. The conversation is sparse.  
  
"Elizabeth?"  
  
"Yes, Mister Blaine?"  
  
Her attempts at formality are uncharacteristic and disturbing. I'm longing to ask what happened in Inepril, but that's impossible. Even if I found the courage, our Union head has forbidden the entire Kantacle crew from discussing the "incident."  
  
"Nothing." My gaze drops back to the console. I am such a coward.  
  
But the truth will be known, someday. 


	3. Breakthrough

3.  
  
Today it felt as though I made a breakthrough. We were running subroutine analysis of the biosystems, which involves a rare trip down to the bulb apparatus. Usually this isn't work for upper union members, but Elizabeth insisted on watching. Curious.  
  
Eric was initiating the scan, and I was running secondary. She stood mesmerized, staring at the glass as beams of light shot from it in brilliant rainbows of refraction. This is a common reaction for new employees not accustomed to the sight, but not for seasoned veterans.  
  
I thought I heard her whisper a name.   
  
"Vash."  
  
She was crying. 


	4. Reassignment

4.   
  
It's been nearly two months since Elizabeth returned from Inepril and was transferred from traveling maintenance to a more stable job here in Kantacle's experimental plant division. Here, we're more concerned with analyzing lost technology than with routine repairs. Although there is scientific excitement here, the lack of travel opportunities causes most to dread this assignment.  
  
I have to admit, two months ago I would have agreed. But now that I'm working alongside Elizabeth, I'm content with my place.  
  
I *was* content. This morning I was reassigned to traveling division, permanently filling the place that was vacated after Elizabeth's transfer. 


	5. Goodbye and good luck

5.  
  
I wouldn't have expected saying goodbye to be so tough, but Elizabeth has made it so. I told her the news this afternoon.  
  
"I'm glad," she said. "You deserve the promotion."  
  
We both know that, if not for her misfortune, there would be no position for me to fill. The ghost of the unspoken hangs heavy in the air.   
  
I can't look her in the eye. "Yes."  
  
She's staring at her feet. "I'll…"  
  
"I…"  
  
"What were you saying?"  
  
"No, you first."  
  
She swallows. "Good luck, Alec."  
  
She has spoken my name, and the spell is broken.  
  
"And to you, Elizabeth." 


	6. Fear

6.  
  
The goodbye was like a fist into my gut, and it came entirely unanticipated. Oddest was the terrible regret of leaving her behind, a woman I hardly knew before the "incident," who is no more than a stranger to me now.  
  
I'm afraid of what that might mean.  
  
If there is any benefit to this new assignment, surely it is that I may get some answers at last. I've respected Elizabeth's right to privacy and the insistence of my superiors, but there is no power in heaven or hell that will stop me from trying to find the Humanoid Typhoon. 


	7. Bargaining Chip

7.  
  
The departure was quick and unheralded. Our team is headed to May City for upgrades on their systems. Routine work.   
  
On the sandsteamer, my ears are open for word of the Typhoon. Rumors are the only source of news, and I covet them. If by some coincidence our paths cross along the journey, I know what to do.  
  
Before our departure, I slipped off to make a purchase. Nothing fancy, just a .45. My bargaining chip.   
  
Now on the steamer, I remove it from its wrappings and watch the metal glint. My friend, don't fail me. We'll find the truth. 


	8. The Letter: part 1

8.  
  
Three days on the steamer, and all this sitting is making my legs cramp up. I've always been an indoors person, but now there's a strange desire to get on terra firma once again.  
  
"Hey Alec." Jacob and Matthew are playing cards. "Want to play a round?"  
  
"Nope." I crack my knuckles, fingers curled around a crumpled letter.  
  
Matthew raises an imperious eyebrow. "What's eating you?"  
  
"An intestinal worm?" Jacob suggests, slapping his thigh.   
  
Matthew rolls his eyes. "Idiot." To me: "You've been awfully quiet, pal. You pining?" He's eyeing the letter in my hand. The one Elizabeth left me. 


	9. The Letter: part 2

9.  
  
More like inwardly fuming. Furious at her blasted audacity and furious at myself for giving a damn about her selfish silence. Found out another little something today as I was unfolding my clothing and discovered the letter pressed neatly between two pairs of slacks. Well, two things, actually. The first is that Elizabeth clearly has no sense of privacy if she was willing to sneak into my room uninvited and root around in my luggage to place the offending article. The second came as a greater shock: the person responsible for my transfer was none other than Elizabeth Montgomery herself. 


	10. The Letter: part 3

10.  
  
~~~  
  
Dear Alec Blaine,  
  
I was afraid to tell you to your face, but this needs to be said: I was the one who requested your reassignment.  
  
I know you care for me, but that isn't what's best for us both. All that I really want is to be left alone, and the Union Head agrees that solitude is best, given my current condition. And, this promotion is best for you in the long run; you'll finally get the freedom and challenges you've deserved for so long.  
  
Best of luck,  
  
Elizabeth Mongomery  
  
~~~  
  
Arrogant little bitch. I'm through worrying about her. 


	11. Solitude and Freedom: Reflections

11.   
  
Shortly thereafter, Matthew and Jacob caught the hint and took a short walk along the deck. Those words she wrote keep racing across my eyelids, even after I clamp them tightly shut.  
  
"I know you care for me…"  
  
Hah! Who does she think she's kidding? Elizabeth has never been more than a mere curiosity, and my interest in her "condition" is merely an extension of the interest I take in all unknowns. I am a scientist, after all, and what I desire most is truth.  
  
Solitude. Hmmph. You can have your blasted solitude, and I'll savor this new freedom. 


	12. Cabin Fever

12.   
  
Our docking in May could not have come soon enough. The past few nights I didn't sleep well, and while most of the insomnia is stress-related, the perpetual rocking and vibrations of the steamer do nothing to help the situation. Plus, Matthew snores and Jacob keeps muttering in his sleep about some "gatekeeper of cheese and eater of souls." Weird stuff. Enough time with those two could give anyone cabin fever.  
  
As soon as I regain my land legs, I'm hitting up every bar in this bloody city. Anything to get my mind off Elizabeth and the nosy coworkers from Hell. 


	13. Carrying

13.  
  
My newly-purchased gun has found a temporary home, snug in the waistband of my slacks. Entering the city, it'll be best to keep a weapon at hand.  
  
Matthew voiced surprise when he saw me carrying and noted that it took a lot of balls to make an open display of it. He believes adamantly in non-violence, and clearly I've upset him. He always figured I was of the same persuasion. I'm a sore disappointment.  
  
Jacob's only comment was about the way I was carrying it. "Well, you won't have any if that thing goes off…"  
  
*Twitch* Alcohol, here I come. 


	14. The Diner: part 1

14.  
  
May has a reputation as a gunman's city. Ten minutes after unloading, I've concluded that a mere .45 won't draw much attention; men here pack AK-47s like they're pocket-knives, and I spotted a ten-year-old with a more formidable looking weapon than mine.  
  
Matthew won't last a day here.  
  
Rather than a tavern, I head for a nearby diner. In May, all the restaurants have liquor licenses or serve illegally.   
  
Inside, the other customers are gossiping about a quick-draw tournament that took place a few months back. I'm only half-listening until a familiar name makes me choke on my whiskey.  
  
"…Vash…" 


	15. The Diner: part 2

15.  
  
It takes a few seconds of sputtering before my trachea is clear and I can speak. "Vash?"  
  
"Yeah," says one of the men, surprised. "Do you know him?"  
  
A woman nearby shakes her head and groans. "Of course he knows Vash… or knows of him. He's the planet's most wanted criminal, moron."  
  
"He's… here?" I choke.   
  
The woman shakes her head. "No, no. He left right after the tournament, and all for the better."  
  
"Tournament? You mean he entered it?"   
  
"Yeah. And tied for first place, too."  
  
My jaw drops open. The world's best gunman entered and he… "Tied?!" 


	16. The Diner: part 3

16.  
  
The customers patiently explain the entire affair to me. Nonetheless, my curiosity remains unabated.  
  
"Wait… so the Stampede and this… priest… won the tournament but gave away the reward?"  
  
"Yeah," the woman nods. "Gave it to the owner of this diner to pay the mortgage." Her gaze drifted to a woman was standing over the grill across the room.   
  
"He gave the money to her?"  
  
"Yeah. We don't know why he did it, either…"  
  
I'm already walking over to the owner. She doesn't look the sort to be in cahoots with an outlaw… but maybe she can answer some questions…? 


	17. The Diner: part 4

17.  
  
The woman is cleaning beer tankards and doesn't look up as I approach.  
  
"Ma'am?"  
  
She suddenly meets my gaze with a terrifying glare. "You're a bounty hunter," she says flatly. "I'm not speaking with you."  
  
A loud chorus of laughter erupts from the other customers. "You kidding?" one of them snorts to her. "This little twerp, a bounty hunter? Nah, he's with Kantacle."  
  
My hand involuntarily clenches. I may not be the world's most muscular person, but I don't relish being called a twerp.  
  
The owner eyes me appraisingly. "Fine. What do you want to know?"  
  
"Where do I start?" 


End file.
